Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me
by MaidofShadow
Summary: "She felt oddly guilty of having dreamt of Jackson in such a way. He had a girlfriend after all. She felt violated too, having had the school's most popular boy invade her subconscious like that. She felt almost as if he had stolen something from her. It wasn't until later that she realized that it might've been her heart." She can't get him out of her head. Jackson/OC. Oneshot.


**Hello everyone, welcome to my Jackson/OC oneshot. This is my first Teen Wolf story and the first oneshot I've written that's this long. I really hope you like it and I would love it if you left some reviews. There's really not enough Jackson/OC stories out there so I hope all you Jackson lovers enjoy!**

 **PS this took me ages, so like I said above, any reviews would be much appreciated.**

 **PPS I know Jackson's a little OOC here. Sorry!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the songs: Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me by The Smiths, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths and Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners.**

* * *

" _Last night I dreamt  
That somebody loved me  
No hope, but no harm  
Just another false alarm_

 _Last night I felt  
Real arms around me  
No hope, no harm  
Just another false alarm_

 _So, tell me how long  
Before the last one?  
And tell me how long  
Before the right one?_

 _The story is old, I know  
But it goes on  
The story is old, I know  
But it goes on_

 _Oh, goes on  
And on  
Oh, goes on  
Goes on"_

 _Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me_

 _The Smiths_

* * *

She was dreaming of him again; of his mouth, his lips.

They were pressed against her; her mouth, her neck, her collarbone. He was everywhere all at once, his fingertips pressing into her skin, his lips marking her neck, and yet, he was nowhere.

It wasn't real, she knew that. It was a dream; just a dream.

And yet, she didn't stop him. She was too caught up in it all, in _him_. She wouldn't notice the pain until it was too late.

She was breaking under his touch, unraveling, shattering.

But he didn't stop.

And she didn't want him to.

* * *

Waking up was always the worst part.

For a moment, a single moment, between sleep and reality, she could still feel him, pressed up against her, his lips touching hers. But then the moment passed and she was alone again in a bed that felt too large and with a heart that felt too hollow.

"Alexis!" her mother called from downstairs. "It's time for school!"

She wanted to sigh, wanted to cover her head with her pillow and fake sick, but she knew it wouldn't do her any good. It would be worse if she didn't face it head on.

It always was.

* * *

Alexis Quinn had moved to Beacon Hills two months ago. She had been whole then, alive. Beacon Hills was supposed to be exciting and new, something she could look forward to. It was supposed to be the place she called home.

How was she supposed to know that home wasn't a place? How was she supposed to know that, for her, home was perfect lips and pale blue eyes?

* * *

Alexis Quinn hated Jackson Whittemore.

He was a jerk, a narcissist, a womanizer and worst of all? Perfect. Alexis had never met anyone so self-centered or rude (except maybe, on occasion, Lydia Martin) but, unfortunately, she had also never met anyone so smart or good looking (except, again, see Lydia Martin). He was amazing at everything he did, captain of both the lacrosse and swim teams, a straight A student and, for lack of a better way to describe him, he looked like a work of art.

Oh yes, Alexis Quinn hated Jackson Whittemore.

She doubted the feeling was mutual, he barely knew she existed, and that was the way she liked it.

They had met on the first day of school. Well, "met" was maybe the wrong term. It was more like "bumped into each other".

Literally.

He had crashed into her and then expected _her_ to make an apology.

"You wish," she had said in reply before rolling her eyes and walking away, annoyed that her first day was already ruined and it wasn't even 10 AM yet.

After that she had done her best to avoid the rude jock but that proved rather difficult considering he was in almost _all_ her classes. Still, she managed to stay away from him for the most part and she made some new friends in the process. By the time she had been in Beacon Hills for 2 weeks, she had settled in so completely that anyone would've thought she'd been there her whole life. She had even started to forget about the general annoyance that was Jackson Whittemore.

Unfortunately, her subconscious hadn't.

* * *

Alexis was completely unprepared for the first dream and utterly ill-equipped to deal with the consequences.

It had begun just like any other dream; just her in school. She was simply in class, minding her own business when _he_ arrived.

After that it was blurry, a bit of a mess really. It was quick and desperate and so amazingly _good_ that Alexis had done nothing to stop it. It was an untidy clash of teeth and skin, lips and tongue; love and lust and the drug that was his scent.

Waking up had felt like a dream; so much so it was only after Alexis cut her hand on a broken glass during breakfast that she felt real again. Empty, perhaps, but real.

Seeing Jackson at school was torture. Alexis wasn't sure if she wanted to kill him or kiss him every time he entered the room. She settled for groaning when he took a seat next to her in math, earning a weird look from both him and the boy sitting on her other side.

She felt oddly guilty of having dreamt of Jackson in such a way. He had a girlfriend after all. She felt violated too, having had the school's most popular boy invade her subconscious like that. She felt almost as if he had stolen something from her.

It wasn't until later that she realized that it might've been her heart.

* * *

The dreams didn't stop. They didn't happen every night but they might as well have. Alexis wasn't sure if she should be excited for night to come or frightened. Never before had sleep exhausted her so much. She was tired all the time, sad all the time and it showed. Her grades began going down, she wouldn't go out for fear she'd see him and she no longer took interest in things she had once loved.

It was even worse though if she didn't see him; if didn't have something to remind her that he was not the man in her dreams. The one from her dreams was kind and gentle and warm. The Jackson she knew was the opposite; angry, rude and conceited.

It was that fact that kept her grounded, kept the guilt from growing in her stomach. Had they been one and the same, Alexis would've been a mess.

It was a lot safer to fall in love with someone made up then with someone real.

* * *

"Jackson and Alexis!"

The voice ripped her out of her rather mundane daydreams, pulling her forcefully back to the reality she had been trying to escape. School wasn't so bad but chemistry class, where she was forced to sit next to Jackson, was a completely different matter. She thought she could just ignore him and she'd be fine.

She had been wrong.

"You can be our group of two in today's lab," the teacher continued, not knowing he was pulling the floor out from under Alexis's feet. "The rest of you, groups of three!"

Alexis didn't know she had groaned until Jackson raised an eyebrow at her.

"You got a problem, Blondie?"Jackson asked coldly, unknowingly adding to Alexis's growing hatred for the boy.

She smiled sweetly at him. "Only that my partner is a complete bonehead."

Jackson laughed as if Alexis was a joke, infuriating her even more, though she'd never let it show.

"Look who's talking, bimbo."

Alexis glared at him, doing her best to ignore how his lips (his stupidly perfect lips) curled into a smirk.

"And yet, you wonder why people like McCall better." Alexis shot back, causing the smug look to fall off the lacrosse player's face.

"Well you're not exactly the most popular girl in town either there hotshot," he replied, regaining his composure and hiding the brief look of anger that crossed his features.

"Let's just get to work," Alexis said with a roll of her eyes, expertly feigning boredom when really just doing everything she could not to look at Jackson. "The sooner we finish, the sooner we can ignore each other again."

"Well then, let's go."

Needless to say, they got perfect.

* * *

Alexis never told anyone about the dreams. She knew what they would say. They'd tell her she was in love with Jackson, the real Jackson. They'd say it was her subconscious expressing suppressed feelings through dreams. Either that or they'd start spouting some sort of theory about the dreams being supernatural or something. This was Beacon Hills after all. Anything could happen.

Alexis wasn't sure which one would be worse. She knew both were wrong.

She wasn't in love with (the real) Jackson. She couldn't be. He was truly one of the most horrible people she had ever met and if that wasn't enough to make her feel sick to her stomach at the thought of being romantically involved with him, she just had to watch the way he treated Lydia. That would get her off that train of thought pretty quickly and have her lurching towards the closest toilet bowl. He was genuinely awful.

As for the supernatural thing, Alexis wasn't stupid. Yes, some of the stuff that happened in Beacon Hills could not be explained using mere science but this was not one of them. She had had dreams like this before, sometimes with people she liked, sometimes with people she didn't. The only differences between these dreams and those were that she had never had them so often, or so vividly, or with someone she _despised_ so much.

Alexis supposed that maybe her subconscious thought up the dreams as an excuse to get rid of her anger via a different type of passion; though she never felt angry in her dreams. She assumed her mind had recognized Jackson's good looks and decided that her frustration was best taken out on his lips.

* * *

"Help!" Alexis screamed. "Help!"

"You're going to hurt your voice," Jackson commented calmly from behind her, sounding as if he had not a care in the world.

Alexis whipped around, fire in her eyes. Oh, how she _despised_ this boy.

"I don't see you doing anything to help," she replied angrily.

Jackson raised an eyebrow in that infuriating way of his and gestured towards the door that Alexis had been banging on.

"Do you really think that anything I could do would get us out?"

"Well aren't you supposed to be strong or something?" Alexis shot back bitterly as she leaned against a shelf of cleaning supplies, nodding at his arms.

"Bet McCall could get us out," she said under her breath.

Suddenly the atmosphere in the very, very small supply closet changed. The already tiny room became a lot tinier as Jackson advanced on her, making her regret her choice of words and take a few steps back until her spine hit the door.

Okay, Alexis could admit that that had been a low blow but she was angry. Mr. Harris had sent them to get some paper towels since the lab was supposed to be pretty messy that day and Alexis had had to go with Jackson because, yet again, the jock had thought it'd be a good idea to sit next to her. She had successfully managed to ignore him the entire trip to the closet until the door had swung shut behind them, automatically locking them inside the very close quarters. It then became rather hard to ignore the 150 pounds of pure muscle standing so close to her.

The 150 pounds of pure muscle that was now pressing up against her, setting her whole body on fire.

She turned her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She could feel her pulse racing as if she'd just run a marathon; her heart beating so loudly that she was afraid he would be able to hear it.

"Look at me," he all but growled, his breath against her neck.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered keeping her face turned from him, fear settling in her heart. Not fear of him, not really. Fear of what she would do if she looked up.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, his voice changing and his breathing slowing. He no longer sounded angry and that scared her. "I'm not making you nervous, am I?"

Alexis could practically hear his signature smirk in his words. She wanted to scream, wanted to push him away. Tears welled up under her eyelids as she shook her head, still refusing to open her eyes. She loathed him. She abhorred him.

He was closer now, his mouth nearly grazing her collarbone. "I do, don't I?"

She detested him. She despised him.

"Mm, you got a little crush, Blondie?" he pressed his lips lightly to her neck, making her gasp and do her best to wriggle out of his grasp.

He laughed.

"I hate you."

The words were out of her mouth before she had even decided to say them; her eyes open before she had even realized what she was doing. She stared at him; so similar to the man she loved yet so different.

His lips had left her neck, giving her the strength she needed to continue as he gazed at her with an expression she couldn't quite identify.

"I don't have a crush," her voice broke. "I _hate_ you. You hear that?"

He seemed slightly alarmed (as alarmed as someone like Jackson could be, she supposed) at her sudden meltdown, staring at her as if she were insane. She was crying and she didn't even know why, her tears hot and angry as she glared at the boy.

"I hate you!" she screamed, causing him to move away in what might've been surprise. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" she repeated, pushing him further from her with each sentence. His back hit the wall and for once she was the one in control.

Her face was inches from his as she looked up at him with all the abhorrence, detestation and loathing she could muster.

"I hate you more than anyone else in the whole world." She told him. "I always will."

And she had meant it. She really had no way of knowing at the time that she had been lying.

* * *

Alexis didn't remember who had kissed who first. She never did. All she knew was that they were kissing now; his mouth was on hers, his lips pressed firmly to her as if she was air and he was drowning. It wasn't sloppy, not really. They had had a hundred tries to figure it out and they would have a hundred more.

* * *

Jackson had dumped Lydia. Alexis didn't know why, nor did she care.

Well, maybe she cared a little.

Still, she stayed out of the whole affair, keeping any emotions connected to Jackson at arm's length. The last thing she needed was to fantasize about a relationship with the real Jackson after she had already fallen for her dream one.

No, staying far away from the boy was the best option.

Her heart had already been stolen by the dream version of the jock. Alexis was afraid that if she got too close, the next thing Jackson (real or otherwise) would claim would be her life.

* * *

Jackson was adopted.

Alexis hadn't meant to eavesdrop, she really hadn't. She had simply been waiting outside the classroom with her mother for their parent teacher interview and she had caught a single sentence from inside. It hung in the air, making the atmosphere seem heavy as it floated towards her.

One phrase, one little phrase, packed with so much weight she felt as if she would be crushed under the words.

His parents had said it. Well, adoptive parents, she supposed. They had stated it, as if it were just a fact and not something that could bring worlds crashing to anyone's feet. They had said it as if it were nothing.

She had wanted to find him then, wanted to hug him and tell him everything.

But his parents had left, not aware at all as they passed her in the hallway that they had stolen the breath right from her lungs and Alexis had had a parent teacher conference to attend.

* * *

Skin.

Fingertips.

Mouth.

Teeth.

Tongue.

Hands.

Lips.

Breath.

It was always like this.

Alexis was beginning to fear it always would be.

* * *

The universe was out to get her, Alexis was sure of it. She wondered what she could've possibly done to make it hate her so. It wasn't like she'd killed anyone or stolen from hungry children. It wasn't like she'd created a deadly virus or started a war. So why would the universe feel the need to torture her further? Was it not bad enough that she already dreamed about the boy nearly every night only to have to face him the next day? Was it not bad enough that she had never wanted anything as much as she wanted the jock while simultaneously never hating anything as much as she hated him? Was it not bad enough that every look her gave her, every glance, felt like a punch to the stomach?

Apparently the answer was no, it wasn't, which must've been how Alexis found herself here since she couldn't comprehend how else this could happen without the universe's particular hatred towards her having something to do with it.

Gym class.

With Jackson.

Where they would be rock climbing in pairs.

For a whole week.

And guess who Alexis's assigned partner was.

Wait for it.

Yup! Jackson.

Luckily, on the first day, Alexis didn't actually have to look at him. Well, at least for the first half of class.

The assignment was one of trust, as apparently all the assignments during the next week would be, so boys and girls "could build strong, healthy relationships" or something along those lines. What they had to do was simple. One person would be blindfolded while the other would tell them where to put their hands and feet. Then they would switch. Sounded easy enough and luckily, for once, it was.

Alexis had gone first, glad that rock climbing was the one sport she was actually good at. She reached the top with barely three words from the dark haired boy below. He had done an admirable job too; barely needing her help as he made his way to the red button that had to be pressed when they were finished. All she had to do was shout a few directions at him and they were good to go.

The next three days were just a combination of trust exercises that included taking turns "belaying" each other (one of the two holding and taking care of the climber's rope to make sure that the other didn't fall, or at least fall in an unsafe manner) and providing a safe place to drop to the ground (moving a mat to where it was needed, which Alexis was sure was probably the Coach's invention and possibly illegal) during "bouldering" (essentially rock climbing without a rope or harness). They had to tie each other's knots and the like but it wasn't too complicated and, luckily for Alexis, too involved with the other person concerned. That is, outside of only the most basic of communication.

Unfortunately the last day's task was less simple.

Coach Flinstock started by telling them that the curriculum mandated that he do this and not to get any funny ideas. That left a bad taste in Alexis's mouth as she thought of all the horrible things she might have to do with Jackson for this assignment.

She found her worrying was not in vain, as it turned out, after hearing what the Coach wanted to them to do. She had groaned, putting her head in her hands and feeling the strong urge to both cry and rip someone's throat out. She would have to touch him.

The task was to reach the top holding hands. The idea was that they relied on each other and worked together, both being down a limb as they tried to make it to the top. It was supposed to get them to "flow as one" and to "combine their strengths". Apparently it was supposed to be easier than climbing alone with only one hand.

Alexis knew that was a lie. Climbing with no limbs would be easier than touching him.

"Well?" Jackson asked, holding his hand out to her.

Alexis looked at him with what she hoped seemed like disgust.

"I'm _not_ holding hands with you." She said, crossing her arms.

"Look, Blondie," Jackson replied in that tone of his that was nothing but exasperated frustration and mild hatred, "I'm not all that happy with this either but I need an A in this class and you're not going to mess that up for me so let's go."

"Pffft," Alexis snorted, gazing at her fingernails so she wouldn't have to look at him or acknowledge how much his tone had unexpectedly _hurt_. She wasn't supposed to feel anything towards this Jackson. She wasn't in love with this Jackson. So why did it hurt? "You can handle one C."

Suddenly he was up in her face again, making her forget how to breathe, although he didn't seem to notice.

"Listen here, Blondie," he all but hissed, "I don't know what your problem is but I'm not going to get a 0 on this assignment just because you can't get over some immature fear of touching boys."

"Not "boys"," she wanted to say. "Just _a_ boy."

But she didn't.

She stayed silent as he backed away enough that he wasn't the only thing in her line of vision, although one could argue that whenever he was in the same room as her he was the only thing in her line of vision.

She stared at him for a moment, thinking; thinking about the fire in his eyes that had threatened to burn her if she refused to hold his hand again, thinking about why it was so important to him.

She realized it then, a single thought turning her world on its head. He was adopted. He didn't think he was good enough. He needed to be better than he was. More than that, he needed to be the best.

And suddenly, just like that, Alexis could feel her perception twisting, her image of him shattering. He was more than she had thought, more than anyone thought. He was complex and deep and full and _sad._ Sad like she was. It was obvious to her now as she finally saw Jackson, the real Jackson, in focus for the first time. He wasn't nothing like she had told herself countless times in an attempt to rid herself of thoughts of the boy who looked so much like the man she loved. He wasn't even something. No, she realized as her entire world shifted around her. He wasn't just anything. He was everything.

"What?" he asked, confusion and anger having equal rein across his features. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm sorry," was all she said.

And she meant it; more than she'd ever meant anything before. He wasn't what she'd thought, not at all. Sure, he was still a jerk and a narcissist and a million other awful things but now she saw him as something else too; a human.

He looked taken aback by her apology, his lips forming silent words as he tried to formulate some sort of response, as he tried to comprehend what she had just said. Still, that wasn't as taken aback as he looked when she slipped her hand into his, her entire body on fire as she intertwined their fingers, and found that they fit perfectly.

* * *

It all changed after that day. Everything changed. It was almost as if Alexis's entire world had been destroyed and then reconstructed in a mock image. Everything was different. Everything was the same.

She still had the dreams of course, still awoke with the dull ache in her chest and the familiar feeling of emptiness, but now there was something new. The Jackson in her dreams was morphing, shifting, changing until he was no longer just a dream, he was her reality. The dream Jackson had become the real Jackson, a series of contradictions. Warmer than anyone she'd ever known, colder than any person she'd ever met; hard and soft; angry and kind.

She would dream about him just as she did before, though it seemed as though her heart hurt more now in the morning and the cold would spread more easily throughout her limbs.

She was losing herself in him. His lips were killing her, stealing the breath from her lungs until she was on the verge suffocating, nearly dead under his love, and yet, she felt unlike she ever had before. She was losing herself, yes, so close to fading that she thought she might be killed in the process, but Alexis found that, for the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid of dying.

* * *

Alexis started going to lacrosse games.

She had been scared of them before, been scared of _him,_ but now that fear had faded.

"Its school spirit," she had told her mother, "It's to support our team."

Part of that had been true. She knew people on the team and her friends did too. They had been begging her to come to a game for a while now but she'd always refused, always made up an excuse. Now there were no excuses. Whether she liked it or not, Jackson, the real Jackson, was a part of her life now. _He_ was the one invading her subconscious, the dream Jackson no longer existing, and that meant that Alexis couldn't just ignore the rude jock anymore. He was a part of her now and lacrosse happened to be a part of him.

The first game she went to was already one of the season's final ones. The air was cold and filled with a sort of buzzing excitement that she would find was something present at every game. She noted that Lydia Martin was at the game, sitting with that girl, Alison something or other; Armen or Argent or something like that. She also noted that Lydia purposely avoided Jackson's gaze when he scanned the field, his eyes finally coming to rest on Alexis.

It seemed as though time stopped for a moment. Perhaps it hadn't been the same for him, perhaps it hadn't meant anything at all to Jackson but for her, the world had stopped turning, her breath had caught in her throat and as far as she knew, her heart had stopped beating. It was just a moment, as everything between the two of them was, but it was something.

Maybe he _had_ felt it too, she thought as she watched the boys throw a ball back and forth between their nets. Maybe that's why he didn't look at her again for the rest of the game.

It was only after everything was over and everyone was on the field congratulating the players on another win that he even acknowledged her.

Neither had intended to seek the other out. Alexis wasn't even sure that either really had. They just ended up standing close, by some odd twist of fate helped along by different people jostling others around them in an attempt to get to their loved one, and he had spoken to her.

"You're here," he said simply, his cheeks red from the excursion of the game, his helmet under his arm.

"I'm here," she replied, offering something that was nearly a smile but not quite.

"This your first time?"

Alexis didn't know if it was a statement or not so she just took it as a question and nodded.

They stood in an awkward silence for a moment before he turned away as if he were about to leave. He made it a few feet before looking back and asking one last thing, his face a perfect mix of confusion and indifference that might've been practised or might've been genuinely what he felt.

"Why?"

She looked at him, tilting her head, trying to understand his question.

"Why not?" she replied and he gave her something almost like a smirk in return before moving away and losing himself in the throng of people.

Alexis never missed another game.

* * *

They never spoke in the dreams, not really. It was all physical and yet, it wasn't. There was more there; emotions and feelings that proved that it wasn't just physical. It couldn't be.

Love, she supposed was the feeling, although she wasn't in love with this Jackson, this new dream Jackson who was so close to the real Jackson it might as well been him. No, not yet. That was one thing she knew.

Unfortunately another thing she knew was that she also was not, _not_ in love with him either. She didn't know what she was with him.

She never knew.

* * *

Detention.

Alexis had gotten to school late; Jackson had gotten into some sort of fight. He had the busted up lip and black eye to prove it, making Alexis wonder how he still managed to look so perfect.

Mr. Harris decided that the best way to punish them was to get them to reshelf books in the library, much to the teenagers' dismay. Apparently the librarian never put any books away because there was what seemed like hundreds of novels to reorder, which meant that detention wasn't over at 3:30.

Everything went fine for about an hour; and by fine Alexis meant that she didn't have to interact with Jackson. Jackson worked across the room from her, allowing Alexis to actually focus on her job for the most part. They had gotten through about half of the large stack of books, Alexis beginning to get hopeful that she would make it home before dinner, when Mr. Harris decided that that was his cue to leave.

"Have fun," he said with what Alexis could only describe as an evil smile as he grabbed his bag and walked out the door without a single look back.

Jackson swore after the man and Alexis groaned and closed her eyes, resting her head against a shelf. Not only were there still hundreds of books to put away but Mr. Harris had ever so kindly left her and Jackson _alone_.

After about 10 minutes of silence, Alexis heard Jackson sigh in exasperation.

"This is boring," he commented to no one in particular.

"You should've thought of that before you got into that fight," Alexis said as she placed another book on the shelf. Despite her words, her tone lacked resentment or anger. She was simply stating a fact.

Jackson glanced over at her from behind a bookshelf a few aisles down as he returned 3 books to where they were supposed to go.

"What did you do to get in here anyways?"

Alexis shrugged, "I slept in and was late."

"And that's equal to fist fighting?" Jackson asked as if that was the stupidest thing he had ever heard.

Alexis snorted at his comment, half laughing, half surprised at what might've been him defending her.

"Apparently."

Jackson shook his head and returned back to his books, "brutal."

There were another few minutes of silence before Jackson went to the librarian's desk and started fiddling with the computer.

"Jackson!" Alexis hissed, glancing at the door to make sure they wouldn't get in trouble. They were already in detention after all. "What are you doing?!"

"Relax," the dark haired boy said, standing up again just as angry bass started pumping through the computer's speakers. "I'm just putting on some music."

Alexis shot him a look of disgust. "You call this music?"

He seemed taken aback by her response, probably not expecting her to react that way.

She just shook her head and marched over to the computer. "Techno is not music, alright?" she said, glancing up at Jackson while leaning over the librarian's desk in an attempt to find something better.

"Ah ha!" She exclaimed victoriously as she found what she was looking for. She gave a Jackson a triumphant look as Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners came on, so caught up in her success that for once she didn't focus how close the boy was standing to her.

He raised an eyebrow at her as she straightened up, giving her a look that said "really?" as the Celtic–style fiddle intro began.

"Oh but this is music?"

Alexis rolled her eyes, "first of all yes, it is, even though it's not the kind I like to listen to and second of all, just wait a sec, alright?" She turned her back to him and returned to her job, muttering something about Jackson being impatient.

Jackson himself returned to his own job just as the actual song started, making Alexis grin involuntarily. All her favourite songs seemed to do that to her. It was only after the first chorus that Alexis realized she was dancing; her fingers, head and hips all moving to the beat. She paid no mind to it, as used to finding herself dancing to music she liked as she was to dreaming about Jackson.

Jackson!

Alexis nearly dropped her books as she realized that the other boy was still in the room with her. She shut her eyes for a moment, hoping for the best before she turned, only to find the boy looking at her in amusement.

"I didn't know you were a dancer," he commented lightly, raising his eyebrows at her feet before looking at her face again. He seemed to be trying not to laugh.

"I'm not," Alexis said, deciding to humor him with a sheepish smile.

"And yet…." Jackson trailed off with a half grin, gesturing once more with his eyebrows to nowhere particular on her body.

"Yeah, yeah," Alexis waved her hand in dismissal, turning away and going back to her job. "I know. I can't dance."

"Well you've got one thing right," Jackson replied, finally letting his laugh out.

"Hey!" Alexis exclaimed in half amusement, half disbelief, as she turned back to Jackson and threw a magazine at his head. He ducked and laughed again, the sound seeming fuller somehow this time. "You aren't supposed to agree with me!" She went back to putting the next book on the shelf. "Jerk."

"Why not?" Jackson inquired, suddenly next to her, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "It's true."

Alexis looked over at him, crossing her arms and leaning against the bookshelf so she was facing him. "Weren't you taught that if you don't have something nice to say don't say anything at all?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, her tone not as serious as it would've been if she was really asking. She consciously didn't ask if his mother had ever taught him that. She didn't want to ruin anything else with this boy more than she had when she had screamed at him in the supply closet; especially since this was now the Jackson in her dreams.

"Actually," Jackson said with mock professionalism, also turning to face her, "I _was_ taught that, I just chose to ignore it."

"Oh, did you now?" Alexis replied as if this was all news to her. "Never would've guessed."

Jackson shrugged and gave her the same smile he had given Coach in Economics when he had told the older man that he had "undying admiration" for him.

"It's a gift," he told her.

Alexis let out a laugh. "What does that even mean? That doesn't make sense!"

Jackson grinned.

"Another gift."

Alexis turned away once more with a shake of her head and a smile.

"I don't even know what you're saying."

"Sure you do, Blondie," Jackson replied, also going back to his work but still standing next to her.

"I'm pretty sure I don't," Alexis countered, looking at the book in her hand in an attempt to figure out where it was supposed to go. She was making better progress than she thought. Her half was almost done.

After a moment of silence, a thought occurred to her and she turned back to the boy.

"Do you even know my real name?"

"Do you know mine?"

Alexis rolled her eyes.

"It's Jackson."

"Really? That's so weird, so is mine."

Alexis sent Jackson a look but he just smirked in return. She didn't actually mean the look anyway; she liked this side of Jackson. The side that laughed, the side that joked, the side that had fun; the side that she never knew existed.

"Okay, okay," he raised his hands in surrender. "Your name is Alex or something right?"

Alexis rolled her eyes again, this time slightly more amused than last time.

"Alexis," she said, annunciating slowly, "with an I-S on the end."

"Whatever," Jackson said in dismissal, waving his hand as if it didn't matter.

Alexis looked at him with a raised eyebrow and the barest hint of distain.

"Ok fine," she replied, waiting a moment as she placed her last book on the shelf for full effect. "Whatever you say Jackass Whittemore."

She then spun away from him with a flourish as she grabbed her bag and headed towards the exit.

"See you later!"

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" Jackson called after her after (presumably) recovering from his shock.

Alexis just waved.

* * *

His hands were the worst, or perhaps his lips. Both felt like heaven, both put her through hell. Skin on skin felt like a blessing, felt like a sin. His mouth on hers both set her aflame and took her to paradise.

It was a mess, she knew, something rather unsafe, one person affecting her in such a way. She was going to get burned, get hurt. It was just that at this point, Alexis no longer cared.

* * *

Jackson looked at Alexis.

A lot.

She didn't really think it was intentional. She supposed it was sort of like how her gaze often rested on him when she was thinking; it wasn't on purpose.

It seemed like maybe he was trying to figure her out, which she supposed made sense considering that one moment she had been screaming about how much she hated him and been laughing with him the next.

It was then that she realized how odd she must've really seemed to the boy. With her mood swings and her dancing skills (or lack thereof), she probably looked like a total weirdo. She winced at the thought of Jackson thinking of her that way.

 _Great_ , she thought, _just great_.

Still, there wasn't anything she could do about that now, was there? Anyways, she supposed that he thinking she was weird was a step up from him hating her and that was something at least.

Well, she hoped it was.

* * *

Lips against lips, skin against skin.

Every dream was the same, every dream was different.

They were all about him, all about teeth and breath and mouths but they were never repeated. Each dream started with a different situation that ended the same; with an empty pit in Alexis's stomach.

* * *

"That's a pretty ugly sweater there, Jackass," Alexis commented as she took a seat next to the boy in Economics.

Anybody within earshot stopped what they were doing to see how the captain of the lacrosse team would take the insult. Danny, Jackson's best friend, looked at her like she was crazy, Stiles, McCall's best friend, was clearly thinking that she wanted to be killed and McCall himself gave her a look of sympathy that said he'd come to her funeral when she didn't survive this.

"Not as ugly as your dancing, Blondie," Jackson replied with a half smirk and amusement in his tone, taking the comment in stride.

Alexis grinned as the other three boys shot each other looks, probably wondering how she'd gotten out of that alive.

Apparently Alexis's weirdness wasn't such a big deal after all.

* * *

"So you and Jackson, huh?" Lydia asked.

She had cornered the blonde at her locker between periods, her signature expression (was that supposed to be a smile?) on her face as she asked the other girl the exact question she didn't want to answer.

"Me and Jackson what?" Alexis deadpanned, keeping her expression neutral as she looked at the girl who had avoided her from day one, as if it were social suicide to interact with her. Until now, that is.

"You're a thing now, aren't you?" Lydia prompted, making Alexis almost laugh aloud at the assumption. Was that what people thought? Wow, they were misinformed.

Alexis just raised an eyebrow at Lydia, trying to judge her bitterness on a scale from one to ten. Looked like about an eight to Alexis.

"What makes you say that?" Alexis countered; toying with the redhead (she had seen strawberry blondes and Alexis could tell you that Lydia was not one of them).

She rolled her eyes, probably just for effect, and sighed, also, Alexis assumed, for effect.

"Look, you can tell me, I'm over it." Lydia stated. Alexis doubted that the other girl would be talking to her right now if that were even remotely true but she allowed her to continue nonetheless. "Danny told me about you r little exchange. You calling him Jackass and him acting like it was totally fine? I mean, could you be more obvious?"

This nearly made the blonde's eyebrows shoot up. Wow, Lydia was reading way too much into this.

"So what's going on with you two?" Lydia finished.

Alexis should've said "nothing" but that wouldn't have been true, would it? Nothing like Lydia thought was going on but not nothing at _all_. Maybe it was nothing to Jackson but it was not nothing to Alexis.

Definitely not nothing to Alexis.

So instead she found herself saying, "none of your business," much to her Lydia's (and her own) surprise. It wasn't like the redhead deserved to know anyways. She had never tried to be nice to the blonde once since she moved to Beacon Hills. Alexis was just returning the favour.

Besides, Lydia was annoying anyway.

The other girl pursed her lips.

"Well it's not like I care anyway," she started.

"I'm sure you don't," Alexis replied with a sweet smile and no attempt to keep that comment quiet.

Lydia glared at her for a moment before giving her a tight smile.

"I just wanted to warn you that he's a bit crazy, that's all." She leaned closer to Alexis as if telling her a secret. "Lots of baggage."

"Thanks," Alexis answered, returning the not-so-genuine smile.

Lydia's lips curled upwards, seeming to be back to her "I'm oh-so-superior" self, though there was still a hint of annoyance in her tone and expression when she looked at Alexis, clearly not having warmed up to Alexis any more than she had over the past couple months. "Just thought I'd warn whoever got my leftovers."

"Oh really?" Alexis found herself saying as she closed her locker, her expression that of mock confusion. "Because I heard _he_ dumped _you_."

And with an innocent smile, she left.

* * *

Alexis found him on the lacrosse field; cold, alone and seeming so much older than he was. She said nothing, just sat next to him on the bleachers, waiting as his breathing evened out. He must have been practicing, though Alexis didn't know how one could practice lacrosse without anyone else.

She found she understood him then, alone in the dark. The night was above them, cold and unforgiving; just like him. She could barely make out the face that she knew so well as the stars shone overhead, the moon giving off a rather eerie glow. She found she didn't need to, not really. She knew him already; all of him; differently than she knew himself. She could trace the outline of his face easier than she could her own, could speak his name faster than her mother's, could tell him his story better than he could.

She didn't know everything, she knew that, but she knew _all_ of him; all the important bits at least, and that's what mattered. She knew that _he_ mattered.

"I know, you know; about the adoption," she found herself saying. For a moment it seemed almost as if she were speaking into the empty night, his breathing having become regulated and quiet. He took some time to respond, not looking at her as he did so, though he did not move from his spot next to her.

"My mother died. It was a miracle I survived," he told her.

Ten simple words, so seemingly carelessly uttered. But they weren't careless. She knew that. They held more weight that anyone could ever know, so she didn't try to reply, didn't try to match his confession or respond with some condolence he had heard a hundred times before.

She just reached out and took his hand, her heat mingling with his cold, and let that be enough.

* * *

Alexis felt as if she was drowning. Drowning in him and all he was; all his ugliness, all his beauty. Drowning in his faults and perfections, drowning in his humanity and his godliness, his anger, his love.

Drowning in his sadness, just as she had been drowning in hers.

Drowning in his love.

* * *

Jackson was different with her now. His attitude towards her had changed becoming calmer, quieter.

He stared at her, trying to understand her. They didn't speak, not really. Neither mentioned what had happened that night on the field, preferring to ignore it but despite that, there was something there. Something that passed between their eyes when they made contact, something that could be felt in every accidental touch, every murmured word as they tried to move around each other.

There was something. Not love, not lust, but something.

Perhaps those trust exercises had worked after all.

* * *

The dreams weren't so bad anymore, not really. They still hurt her, still made her feel empty and sad and lonely, still filled her with desire for something she couldn't have. It was just that now, they were no different than reality.

* * *

They bumped into each other in the library, both in the same aisle.

"Sorry," she mumbled, doing her best to get around him.

For a moment they were stuck as Alexis moved to her left and Jackson to his right. They tried again, this time Alexis stepping to her right and Jackson to his left.

She laughed lightly. "Sorry," she repeated.

Jackson gave her a half smile that made her weak in the knees as he grabbed her shoulders lightly and moved her to her left, so they were no longer blocking each other but instead simply facing one another in what was a very confined space.

It was different than last time they were in a confined space. There was no anger in his eyes and no hatred in hers; just a sort of softness in both's expressions as they gazed at each other.

He didn't let go of her shoulders for a moment, taking time just to look at her. It wasn't romantic, not exactly, but it _was_ new, this look of his. Finally he just reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek for the briefest of seconds before he pulled away, dropping both hands at his sides but not moving from his position in front of her.

Later Alexis would wonder at what made her do this, at what had crossed her mind before reaching out and taking his hand, and she would realize that she couldn't come up with an answer. As cheesy as it sounds, it had just felt right.

He looked at her for a moment, not staring exactly, not just glancing either, his expression rather unreadable but not angry, not hard. They stayed that way for only a few seconds, his fingers gripping hers as their breath mingled together in the confined space. Then he gave her hand a quick squeeze and she smiled at him, easily and full of warmth; something that came as natural as breathing. He returned the smile, dimples showing and for once, instead of feeling like her knees were about to buckle, Alexis just felt at home.

* * *

For a while there was nothing. No dreams, no interactions; nothing.

They avoided each other, afraid of what would happen if they didn't. They were dancing an intricate dance, moving around one another in such a way that if either stopped, they would break.

* * *

Homecoming had arrived and with it came dates and dresses and a lot of excitement.

Alexis hadn't wanted to go. She felt as if it wasn't her place. This wasn't her school, not yet. It didn't mean the same thing to her as everyone else. Plus, she didn't have a date.

Even so, her friends had insisted, telling her she would regret it if she skipped out on the dance. Alexis had rolled her eyes in response but had let her friends drag her throughout the mall to shop for outfits to wear nonetheless.

Somehow, in that time, she had ended up with a dress; simple, blue and above the knee. She didn't tell her friends that she had chosen it because it matched his eyes. In fact, no one had even questioned it until the dance and even then there had only been a narrowing of Lydia Martin's eyes that showed she had realized.

Homecoming itself was boring. Alexis hadn't felt like dancing, the so called "music" too loud in her ears, her heart too heavy in her chest. She had ended up leaving; feeling like everything was just too much.

Somehow she had managed to sneak out into the hallway, the dance fading into vague memory as she sat down next to the lockers. She took off her shoes and all but threw them aside, tired of wearing those ridiculous heels. Next time she was definitely going for flats.

She closed her eyes, back pressed against the cool metal and just thought. She thought about all that had happened since she moved here and all the things that would happen. She worried about her upcoming chemistry test and wondered if she would ever be able to afford the car she wanted and most of all, she thought about him.

Even without the dreams, he was impossible to get off her mind. Somewhere along the line, she had started feeling something for him, something real. She couldn't exactly say what it was, not even sure herself, but it was something. She wondered when hatred had turned into sympathy, when sympathy had turned into _this_.

She wondered if he felt it too.

* * *

They always seemed to meet at night. Never once had Alexis had a single moment alone with Jackson outside of school except at night. First the lacrosse field and now this.

Alexis had been having trouble with her mother's car, as usual, and of course, her cell phone had been dead. She had just knocked on the door of the nearest (non-sketchy looking) house to ask for some help when everything had been flipped on its head.

A pretty woman in a fancy dress opened the door, halfway through the process of putting an expensive looking earring in.

"Hi I'm-" Alexis began but the woman didn't let her finish, sending her a quick smile before yelling up the stairs, "Honey, your girlfriend's here!"

Alexis was so confused that she forgot to tell this woman that no, she was not anyone's girlfriend, nor would she ever be unless Jackson was the one she was dating.

Luckily someone else replied for her.

"What are you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend," they yelled back. The thumping of their feet descending the stairs was enough to pull Alexis out of her daze just in time for her to see none other than the literal man of her dreams reach the bottom of the steps.

His reaction was the same as hers; taken aback and more than a little confused.

"Jackson?" was all Alexis managed to get out in her shock.

Of all the houses she could've gone to for help, she had chosen _Jackson's_?

Instead of saying anything, Jackson just turned back to the woman, his adoptive mother Alexis supposed, and gave her a hard look.

"This is not my girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Alexis agreed, bring the attention back to her.

The woman tilted her head, confusion evident on her features for a moment before she turned back to Jackson.

"Sorry honey, I thought you said something about your girlfriend coming over." She didn't seem too distressed that she had forgotten that Jackson was single.

Jackson sighed in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I said that _Mia's_ girlfriend was coming over to give back my chemistry textbook and she already did that an hour ago."

The woman looked at Jackson in mild surprise.

"Really? I didn't even hear her come in."

Jackson sighed again and pointed at the door, which happened to be exactly where Alexis was standing.

"Just go," he said with a shake of his head. "You're going to be late."

It was the woman's turn to sigh now, nodding as she grabbed her coat and said her goodbyes to her adopted son.

"You two have fun," she called with one last wave as she stepped into her car and drove away, leaving Jackson and Alexis alone.

Alexis turned back to the dark haired boy slowly, embarrassment evident on her features. They hadn't talked since the library incident. She assumed he was wondering what the hell she had been doing when she had grabbed his hand. It had just been a moment of confusion when he had smiled back at her; that was it.

That had to be it.

"Uh-" Alexis tried, not sure where to begin or what to say. "She seems nice."

Jackson just looked at her, his expression harder than it needed to be.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, right," Alexis replied, suddenly remembering her current predicament. "I swear I didn't know you lived here." He raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at that, half urging her to continue, half giving her a "sure you didn't" look. "It's just that my car broke down," she continued, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the street behind her, "and my phone's dead and I really need to call a mechanic or someone to tow it." She finished in a rush, aware that she was talking quicker than she needed to and also aware that she couldn't make herself stop. "Sorry."

Suddenly Jackson was pressed against her, his body warm and comforting and all too _there_ as he stepped closer to look over her shoulder at the road.

Alexis wanted to scream, wanted to run, wanted to push him away and never touch him again but more than any of those things, she wanted him to stay as he was. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close and never let her go. She wanted him to feel his heat in a way that was all hers, not accidental and annoyingly distant. She wanted to feel his hands burning against her back, wanted to feel his fingertips pressing into her shoulders and waist. She wanted more than just this infuriatingly empty contact. She wanted him.

And then, just as suddenly his body was gone, his heat ripped from her as he pushed past her and moved towards her car. The abrupt lack of him pulled her from her mind, bringing her back to reality and causing her to subconsciously hug herself.

Against the cold, she told herself, not the loneliness.

"What are you doing?" she called after the school's star athlete, finally regaining enough composure to speak as she stood in the doorframe of his home.

He was circling her car, tilting his head as if sizing it up.

"This is a piece of crap," he finally announced after several minutes.

Alexis rolled her eyes.

"I know," she replied. "Can I just call a tow truck now?"

Jackson looked up at her, as if suddenly remembering why she was there in the first place and nodding.

"Phone's in the kitchen," he said before turning back to the car.

Part of her wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. The other part of her wanted to know what he thought was so damn interesting about her mother's car.

"Yes, hello?" Alexis asked when she finally found the kitchen and subsequently, the phone. "I'm calling for a tow on," she paused and went out to the driveway, squinting at the street name at the end of the driveway. "Park Street." She waited for a moment as someone replied on the other end, nodding her head and making a sound of agreement every so often. "Ok, thanks." She finally said, hanging up only to see Jackson watching her.

"They'll be here in half an hour." She told him as she walked down the steps, handing his phone to him. "Thanks."

"Where are you going?" he asked as she began to turn away from him.

"I'm just going to wait in the car," she replied hesitantly, her voice doing a bad job of covering up how awkward she felt. "Sorry for all the hassle."

"Come on," he told her, nodding his head in the general direction of his driveway as he turned away from her, obviously sure she would follow.

"What are you doing?" she wanted to know, not moving from her position on the sidewalk.

He looked back at her, exasperated and ever so slightly annoyed.

"I'm driving you home. Let's go." He gestured to his car once more, giving her the universal signal for "hurry up" as he nodded towards his Porsche again.

The thought of being in such an enclosed space with Jackson for so long (her house wasn't exactly nearby) made Alexis panic, causing her to stumble over her words as she told him that she was fine, really, she was, and she would just wait with her car.

By now, Jackson was getting pretty fed up with her, clearly annoyed that she wasn't accepting his aid. She only agreed to it once he had marched over and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him and causing her to yelp in surprise.

"I'm trying to help you, Blondie." He all but growled, making an already anxious Alexis jump as he let go of her near the passenger door, flinging her arm away from him slightly so she understood that she needed to enter the expensive vehicle. "Jesus, can't you just be grateful for once?"

She didn't answer, too nervous to allow her voice to shoot back a clever response as she got in the car.

Luckily for her, Jackson stayed silent for most of the trip, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he were angry. It was only once he had pulled up to her small house that he turned to her and gave her a hard stare, making her want to shrink into her seat.

"Why do you do this?" he asked suddenly, gesturing vaguely between them with his hand.

"Do what?" she wanted to know, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, this wasn't it.

"Act so weird," he replied, clearly frustrated he wasn't getting his point across.

He turned back to the steering wheel, focusing his stare on the street. So he didn't have to look at her, she thought.

His voice rose as he spoke, each sentence getting more and more irritated. "One moment you're yelling at me about how much you hate me and the next you're looking at me like I'm something that's going to break. I'm not a doll, damn it!" He hit the wheel angrily, causing her to jump slightly and nearly cowered in the corner.

He looked at her then, fragile and scared and he almost seemed to realize he was frightening her before going back to his angry demeanour.

"I don't need you to protect me," he informed her, jabbing a finger at her accusingly. "I can protect myself."

"I know," was all she said. Her voice was meek and quiet and maybe even the slightest bit fearful, but her words were true and honest.

For a moment there was nothing but silence as he stared at her, his anger dissolving as he fell back into his seat, a defeated expression on his face.

"You don't have to do that you know." He told her.

"Do what?" she asked again, confused once more.

"Be afraid," he replied softly, meeting her eyes.

Alexis smiled then, suddenly feeling her fear and anxiousness drain away as she looked upon a boy who, no matter what he said, _was_ fragile and alone. _No, not alone_ , she thought. He had her.

She reached out slowly and placed her hand on top of his own, her palm pressing against the back of his hand, her fingers interlocking with his as they rested on the gear shift. She had asked him silently if he wanted to her stop with her hesitance but he had said nothing; just gripped her hand as tightly as one could in that position once she had placed it on his.

"I know."

* * *

The dreams had returned in full force. In fact, they were even worse than before.

She didn't only kiss him now. Oh no; now they went on dates and talked and held hands. Now they showed how much they cared about each other.

Alexis's heart felt heavy when she awoke from the first one, feeling sadder than she had in a long time.

With a sigh she pulled herself out of bed and walked to the bathroom, doing her best to stop thinking about the way he had loved her; doing her best to stop thinking about the way the real him didn't.

* * *

"So I made you a thing," Alexis told Jackson, leaning against the locker next to his as she waited for him to put his books away.

"You made me something?" Jackson asked incredulously, shooting a glance her way before turning back to his locker.

"Here," she said, producing a CD and handing it to him. "So you can hear what real music sounds like."

He raised an eyebrow at her, giving her his signature "this is beneath me" look.

"A mixtape?"

Alexis made a face, "If you want to call it that."

He just gave her another look before flipping it over and reading the tracks she had written on the back.

"There Is A Light That Never Goes Out?" he read, before looking at her again. "What kind of name is The Smiths?"

"See?" She replied as if this explained everything. "This is why you need this! You'd know if you actually listened to good songs."

She switched over to his left side so the locker door wasn't blocking her.

"Okay, okay, I know it's cheesy but you really need to do something about your music taste," she continued when he just looked at her like she was crazy. "And seeing as no one else seems to be concerned about this, I had to do something."

He just sighed and shook his head before closing his locker.

"You're insane." He told her, turning back to her. "You know that, right?"

"So I've been told," she agreed. "But trying to show you what real taste is hardly seems to warrant that kind of reaction."

For a moment he simply looked at her, clearly trying to judge something, though she didn't know what.

"Look, if you hate it, that's fine. Well, it's not fine because then you clearly have some sort of brain damage but I won't get mad." She thought for a moment before correcting herself. "Or at least, too mad. But please promise you'll listen to it just once." She asked, pleading with her eyes as she clasped her hands in the universal gesture for begging.

"Once." She held up a finger. "That's all I'm asking."

Jackson rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, probably in exasperation before nodding.

"Fine," he agreed, causing her to smile widely. "Once." He held a finger up to show that he was serious in only being willing to hear the songs one time.

"You won't regret it!" Alexis said with a grin, squeezing his arm lightly before all but bouncing away, missing Jackson's small smile as he watched her go.

* * *

"You're a really sad person, aren't you?"

Alexis didn't respond right away, afraid that she'd accidently tell him the truth about her sadness if she did.

A few days had passed since Alexis had given Jackson his mixtape. A few days which were blissfully devoid of him. No dreams, no interactions, no melancholy feeling. Well, blissfully devoid of him or painfully so; Alexis wasn't sure which yet.

He had found her at the lacrosse field, or at least near it, sitting on the hood of her mother's recently fixed car. He was probably there for some late night private practise to get better than McCall. He wasn't there for her, she knew that. He had had no idea that she was going to be there, he hadn't come for her. It's not like she had told anyone where she was going anyways, so how would he know?

He wouldn't, she told herself.

And yet, he didn't step onto the field. He didn't pull a stick out of his trunk, didn't grab a ball from the passenger's seat. He just parked next to her and stepped out of his car without a word.

She thought he wasn't going to acknowledge her at all, curled up with her knees close to her chest as some sort of protection against the cold, staring at the sky.

She had been wrong.

He sat next to her then, positioning himself so his back pressed against her mother's windshield and said the last thing she expected to hear from him.

"What makes you say that?" She replied, not daring herself to look at the perfect boy that was ever-so-slightly invading her personal space.

"Your music," he answered simply.

That made her look at him.

She studied him as he stared up at the sky just as she had done. That's not what she had wanted him to get from the CD. Contrary to her excuse of giving him something worthwhile to listen to, she had really given him songs that said something about how she felt about him. Every track had lines like " _take me out tonight_ " and " _driving in your car, oh_ _please don't drop me home_ ", though she supposed now that she thought about it, a lot of the songs were pretty sad as well.

 _All the better to accurately express how I feel about him_ , she thought.

"That's not really what I wanted you to take away from the tape," was her only answer.

" _To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die_." He quoted, turning towards her and meeting her eyes; referring to the very song he had made fun of when she'd shown him the CD. She almost smiled, knowing now for sure that he hadn't just heard the CD but actually _listened_ but something about his expression made her bite it back.

"What?" she said after a moment of silence. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Are you going to kill yourself?" he asked, his voice soft and his tone serious.

Whatever she had been expecting him to say, that certainly wasn't it.

"What?!" Alexis yelped in alarm. "No! Of course not!"

Jackson relaxed slightly and turned his gaze to the field after searching her eyes.

"Good."

For a few minutes neither said anything, Alexis simply allowing herself time to process what had just happened. The silence didn't last for long however, Jackson breaking it with another question.

"What made you like this?"

Alexis just shrugged.

"People," she said. Him, she meant.

"Who?"

"My father."

The words left her mouth before she had even realized she had decided to say them and she nearly covered her mouth in embarrassment and surprise. She wanted to take the words back, wanted to swallow them and bury them deep inside. They showed weakness, pain, sadness. Alexis didn't want Jackson to see that.

Even so, she realized her words were true. Perhaps she hadn't admitted it before, perhaps she'd never said it aloud, but they were true. Yes, Jackson made her sad, very, very sad in fact, but her father had gotten the ball rolling.

"Is that why you moved to Beacon Hills?" Jackson inquired, surprising Alexis by not asking _how_ her father had hurt her.

Alexis just nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She never talked about her dad. If she opened her mouth again, she would break.

"Looks like we both have daddy issues," Jackson said after a moment, causing Alexis to snort; half in surprise, half in amusement.

"Seems like it," she replied with a small laugh, glad he hadn't pressed the issue.

"You cold?" he asked.

She could feel his eyes on her, warming her from the inside out. Even so, she nodded, not aware until then that she had been shivering.

"Here," was all he said before she heard some shuffling, causing her to look over at him. He had taken off his sweater, the expensive looking preppy white one she had seen him wearing a few times at school, and he was handing it to her.

"For me?" she asked uncertainly.

Jackson rolled his eyes, clearly back to his regular self.

"Yes, for you, Blondie," he confirmed in exasperation. "God, why is it so hard for you to accept my help?"

"I just don't know how to react when you're nice," she fired back, also returning to her regular self as she took the sweater from him and pulled it over her head. It was warm and soft and smelled like him, like salted caramel and cologne and fresh linen.

"Yeah well, don't get used to it," he scoffed.

She smiled at him warmly, covering her hands with the sleeves of the rather large sweater.

"I won't."

"And don't smile at me like that," he said abruptly, jumping off the roof of her car.

"Why not?" she asked, tilting her head as she joined him and hugged herself against the cold.

He met her gaze evenly.

"Because it makes you seem like you don't believe me."

She grinned then.

"It's because I don't."

He just rolled his eyes and let out something between an exhale and a bitter sounding laugh.

"Fine but don't say I didn't warn you." He told her.

"I won't," she replied with a shake of her head, keeping her eyes on his face.

He stared back at her for a moment, so close but so far. He didn't look at her like she looked at him. Alexis was beginning to think he never would. The only thing that gave her hope was that he did look at her with _something_. Not love, not lust, not anger but something. Something that made her feel like he could see right through her. Something that made her feel real.

"Come on," he said, nodding towards his car and holding out his hand to her.

"Where are we going?" She asked cautiously before slipping her hand into his; his fingers immediately intertwining with hers.

"For a drive." He replied as he led her towards the Porsche.

"A drive?" She repeated, running a little so she could walk beside him.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "We'll come back for your car when we're done."

"Right."

In truth Alexis hadn't even thought about that. She was a little more focused on the fact that she was going on a drive with Jackson Whittemore, alone and she hadn't even been the one to suggest it. In fact, she realized, this time, she hadn't been the one to grab his hand either. Nor was she the one who didn't let go until she had to enter the vehicle.

She hid her smile in his sweater sleeve as the Porsche roared to life.

"What?" he asked, catching a glimpse of it despite her efforts.

She nodded towards the radio, something that had given her yet another reason to grin once the car had turned on, her smile growing slightly.

"You're listening to my CD."

He looked over at her for a moment, something unreadable in his expression before putting the car in reverse and turning to make sure he was backing up safely.

"So what?" His tone was the exact tone that Alexis used when she was trying to convince someone that she really didn't care, even though she did. "Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Is that a crime now?"

Alexis just smiled and shook her head, staring out the window.

This was more than she'd ever hoped. He was here, with her, listening to her mixtape and, for the first time, being the one who took her hand.

* * *

Their relationship was made up of a series of moments. A few words spoken in the dark, a couple precious seconds of eye contact, one or two fleeting touches. It was the most inconsistent thing Alexis had ever experienced, having as many ups and downs as a rollercoaster. Every moment was something new, something different, and it didn't take long for Alexis to discover that she loved it.

* * *

They held hands.

A lot.

Not so much for love but rather in an attempt to lend each other strength and comfort. They were leaning on one another, holding each other up; afraid that if they stopped, they'd fall.

It perplexed their friends, confused their enemies and angered Lydia. No one knew when or why it had started and there were what seemed like a hundred rumors flying around the school about it, ranging from Alexis brainwashing Jackson into falling in love with her to Alexis bearing Jackson's child. The only thing anyone knew for certain was that it had first been witnessed by their classmates in the cafeteria lunch line.

Alexis had been standing next to Jackson, neither paying attention to each other at all. That just made everything that happened next that much more baffling. It hadn't even seemed like they knew each other. They were just standing, waiting for their turn to order food to come, when Jackson reached over and took Alexis's hand, interlacing his fingers with hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Everyone who had been witness to this stared as Alexis looked up at Jackson in confusion. He had simply nodded as way of explanation and nudged the blonde slightly as the line moved forward; speaking softly in her ear (presumably about lunch) as she smiled.

People speculated on their relationship more than anyone else's at school but neither Jackson nor Alexis divulged any information about their relationship or each other to anyone, including their friends.

All anyone knew was that when the two held hands, both seemed happier than they had in a long time.

* * *

Alexis's father had died.

She had cried when she heard, her heart breaking more than she thought was possible. He had abandoned them, her and her mother, leaving them fend for themselves but he had tried to come back. He had apologized and they had shunned him.

Still, he was her father and Alexis loved him and, as she was beginning to realize, loving someone _hurt_.

Heart attack, they told her, possibly work related. She would've rathered he died in a car accident or something. Something that didn't have to do with stress.

Something that didn't feel like her fault.

* * *

Jackson had come to her house.

Alexis found him outside, standing awkwardly on the porch.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper as her voice unexpectedly broke. She shook her head at the lacrosse captain, unable to convey her grief in any other way.

Jackson opened his mouth uncertainly, as if he didn't know what to say. Alexis had never seen him look as uncomfortable or vulnerable as he did now. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his eyes resting on anything and everything but her face. He looked awkward, self-conscious and out of place; three things Alexis thought she'd never see Jackson be.

After a moment he managed to actually look at her, embarrassment that was so unlike the Jackson that Alexis knew that she almost didn't recognize him evident in his expression as he shrugged.

"I don't know," he finally said, looking away from her again. "I heard about," he gestured at her house, "you know, and I guess I just thought I could help."

Alexis bit her lip, blinking back tears. "Go home Jackson."

Jackson stared at her for a moment, his powerlessness clear on his face, before he nodded and began to turn away. "Sorry, stupid idea."

He was halfway down the steps when he stopped and turned back, every sign of helplessness gone as he looked at her again.

"You know what?" He said in that tone of his that was just daring someone to challenge him. "No."

Alexis did her best to hide her surprise as he climbed the steps once more so he was right in front of her.

"Look, I don't have many friends," he told her, not angry exactly but definitely not in the mood to let her contradict him or interrupt. "And I don't exactly know if friends is what we are but we _are_ something. Maybe it _is_ friends or maybe we just understand each other but whatever it is it's not just classmates and it's not just people who see each other in the halls and that means something. To me."

Alexis was taken aback by how raw his tone was, by how honest his words were. She'd never seen Jackson like this, never heard him speak this way to anyone. She wasn't quite sure what she heard in his voice but it wasn't something familiar; to him or to her.

"Now, I don't know if you're willing to just let something like that go but I'm not." Jackson continued. "And I'm not just going to leave you to deal with this alone."

Alexis stared at him, realizing what she was hearing in his voice, in his words. He cared; about _her_.

"I know I'm not a good person, okay?" Jackson said, taking her silence as a cue to keep going. "I don't go around helping people or giving 'out of the goodness of my heart' or anything else that is a waste of my time. And really? I don't actually care that I'm not. What I do care about is _you_ and that means that for _you_ , I'm a good person, alright? I'll help _you_ , I'll give 'out of the goodness of my heart' to _you_ because I care about _you_ and I don't know about you but I don't just let people I care about suffer by themselves." He stepped forward, his voice lowering to a near whisper as he searched her eyes. "Why do you think I'm here? It's for _you_. It's all for _you_." He stared at Alexis for a second, something in his gaze that she couldn't quite place, before going to turn away once more. "Just thought you should know."

For a moment she wondered how they had gotten here, from dreams to enemies to something like friends. Then she realized that it didn't matter.

She reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back towards her and wrapping her arms around him, much to his surprise. She buried her face in his chest as he figured out where to put his hands, one on her shoulder blade, the other on her lower back, and pulled her close.

He was here, at her house, with her, when no one else was and more than that he was here _for_ her. No one else was standing on her porch, hugging her like she was the only thing that was solid. No one else was offering help, no one else was looking at her like she meant something, really truly meant something.

And she realized that it wasn't just this. She realized that Jackson would always be there. She realized that she could call him and he would come when no one else would. She realized that he would come for her when none of her friends would.

No, Jackson and Alexis weren't friends, not really. They were something else; something more. Not lovers, not family, but they _were_ something; something important; something that would eventually mean everything.

Alexis did her best to smile at the boy in front of her, at the boy who cared, as she pulled away.

"Guess you should probably come in."

* * *

Jackson was waiting for her when she got home from the funeral.

"I thought we could go out," he told her, leaning against the frame of her front door. Alexis's heart skipped a beat at the words, even though they didn't mean what she wanted them to. "You know, to get your mind off things."

"Where would we go?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Anywhere." He replied, "Or we can stay in if you want."

Part of her just wanted to watch movies but she was afraid of what she would do if she was alone with Jackson, curled up on a sofa in the dark, so she opted for going out.

"Can we go bowling?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know that you liked bowling."

She shrugged.

"I haven't done it in ages but I remember it being pretty fun."

Jackson just nodded, apparently having left his arrogance at home for the occasion.

"Well then let's go," he told her, motioning that she should follow him to his car.

"Mom!" Alexis called behind her while she grabbed her coat. "I'm going out!"

She didn't wait for a response before closing the door and bounding down the steps.

She was glad he had come, knowing that she would've been stuck wallowing in her sadness at home if he hadn't.

"Just so you know," Jackson stopped her from getting in the passenger seat by peering over the roof of the car. "You don't have a chance. I'm a great bowler."

Looks like Alexis spoke too soon on the arrogance thing.

She grinned.

"We'll see," she said and entered the car.

* * *

The dreams had finally stopped; this time for real.

Still, instead of being relieved Alexis felt as if she were missing something. She missed being able to kiss him, being able to be with him. She missed the dreams because they gave her something she knew she could never have.

Anyways, just because the dreams had finally stopped didn't mean the feelings had.

* * *

They were spending more and more time together; enough that their friends had genuine concerns about them.

They would go out for lunch, been seen in bookstores together, stay at home watching movies (though never The Notebook); anything that would let them stay in each other's company.

He touched her more too. It was just in little ways but it was enough that Alexis, and everyone else, noticed. Classmates would often wonder when the two had gotten so close.

It wasn't just holding hands anymore. He would stand behind her, pressing against her back lightly as his fingers rested on her shoulders. He would move her hair from her face absentmindedly. He would rub circles on the back of her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Alexis loved it.

And the more she thought about it, the more obvious it became that she also loved him.

* * *

"Jackson?" Alexis asked uncertainly.

He had told her to meet him after the lacrosse game, presumably so they could celebrate another win. She had waited outside the boy's locker room for a good 45 minutes, watching while the other players left one by one, when she had decided that enough was enough.

She was pretty sure that Jackson was the only one left, which might've helped influence her decision to enter the room. That and her annoyance at him taking so long.

Half the lights were off when she went in, giving the place a slightly creepy feel. The only sound that could be heard was the water running as she walked cautiously towards the showers.

"Jackson?" she called out again, preparing for the worst (or possibly the best) as she peaked around the corner of the shower area. She visibly relaxed when she saw no one and furrowed her eyebrows at the shower that was still on.

Entering the area carefully she inched around the edges in such a way that she wouldn't get wet and closed off the tap. She sighed and pressed her forehead lightly against the cool tile. She needed to get a grip. Seeing Jackson naked wasn't the end of the world, she reasoned. She needed to get it together.

"Alexis?"

The sound of his voice, so unexpected and so _close_ , caused Alexis to start and slip on the wet floor. She flailed rather unattractively for a moment before taking a hold the thing nearest to her, which just so happened to be Jackson. A shirtless, wet Jackson.

Oh God help her now.

"Wow," Jackson commented once she was steady once more and entangled in some sort of odd embrace with the boy. "Were you falling or dancing again?"

Alexis raised her head slightly from his (incredibly fit) chest before she burst out laughing, shaking in his arms as giggles racked her body.

She wasn't laughing at his joke really; more just at the whole situation. If she had told herself two months ago that she would be hugging a shirtless Jackson in the boy's locker room in eight weeks time, she would've given herself a strange look and said she was insane but here they were.

"Why did you leave the shower on anyway?" Alexis asked once she managed to calm down, untangling herself from the athlete.

"The floor was dirty," he said before stepping off the wet tile and going to grab a tower. Alexis shook her head in amusement as she followed. He gave her something between a smile and a smirk while he dried his hair. "Besides how was I supposed to know you were going to go falling for me?"

Luckily the towel covered his eyes long enough that he missed the expression on her face, something between panic and longing, before she let out a slightly forced laugh.

"You wish," she retorted once she found her words again.

"Whatever you say," Jackson said with a knowing look and a wink. "I saw you looking at my abs."

"Like you wouldn't look at me if you walked into the girl's locker room and found me shirtless," Alexis countered, doing her best to keep his eyes on his face.

Jackson seemed to be considering it, looking her up and down slowly in a way that made Alexis want to squirm.

"You're right," he replied. "I'd definitely stare."

Alexis almost choked at his response. Was he flirting with her?

"Shut up," she muttered, throwing a shirt at his head as he laughed.

"You know you like it," he practically sang as he put the shirt over his head, causing Alexis to roll her eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." She answered, playing with the lacrosse glove that had been on the bench beside her. "What took you so long anyway?"

"Coach needed to see me," Jackson said, shaking his head slightly to get rid of the last drops of water.

"You could've warned me," she grumbled.

"But then we wouldn't have had this special moment together," he said with a grin, making her shake her head.

"You are ridiculous," she laughed, hitting him softly on the chest.

He caught her arm before she could pull away, holding it gently in his grip.

"I'll be just a few more minutes, promise," he told her without letting go, Alexis thinking nothing of it at the time. "Just gotta go hand in my equipment."

And then he tugged on her arm lightly, pulling her to him as he leaned over and kissed her. It was quick and natural and Alexis didn't even think he realized he had done it as he let go of her arm and went back to his things, leaving her reeling and flushed.

Jackson Whittemore had just kissed her.

On the mouth.

Jackson, her, kiss, mouth.

Alexis couldn't wrap her head around it.

So she did what any sensible person would do. She ran.

* * *

Sorting out her feelings turned out to be the most complicated thing in the world.

Part of her wanted to rejoice, wanted to act like the lovesick teenage she was and revel in the feeling of his lips on hers but the other part of her, the pessimistic, realistic part, wouldn't let her.

He had done it without realizing, probably just his mind remembering that she was a girl. Jackson didn't feel the same way about her as she did about him. He didn't care about her that way. If fact, he didn't care about anyone that way. He didn't even like her like that. He just liked girls, not her specifically. He had simply done it because for a moment he forgot she was Alexis and he remembered that she was a female.

She knew this wasn't an unsafe assumption either. She'd seen him with other girls, even with Lydia. He flirted with them like it was nothing and kissed them just the same. The kiss wasn't for her. It was for anyone.

Alexis didn't even know she was crying until she caught sight of herself in the rear-view mirror. Somehow she had found her way to her car and managed to pull herself together enough to get it started and leave. She was driving now, unsure of where she was going, just sure that she needed to get as far away from that school as possible; as far away from _him_ as possible.

It was then that she realized how stupid she had been. It would never work with her and Jackson. He was too different, too unlike her to be with her. She had been a fool thinking she could change him.

That's what she had been doing really. Deluding herself that she was special just because they held hands and talked about their feelings.

They hadn't even really done that, she realized. She had never told him how she felt about him. She had never talked about those feelings. Maybe if she had he could've turned her down and she could've been saved a lot of heartache.

It was too late for that now though, she thought. Her heart was already broken.

* * *

Alexis managed to avoid Jackson for a whole week.

The first few days were spent at home, lying in bed. She told her mother she felt too sick to go to school which honestly wasn't even a lie. She just couldn't face him; she couldn't.

She ignored his calls, deleted his texts and didn't answer the door. By now she figured that he knew what he had done but she wasn't up for apologies or requests or really any type of contact with the boy.

She just wanted to be alone.

Eventually Alexis's mother forced her to go to school, making Alexis want to cry. There was nothing she could do about it though. Her mother would know if she skipped, she always did. Alexis had no choice.

So she went; but she avoided the jock in every conceivable way. If he was in the hallway, she turned around and went in a different direction. She surrounded herself with friends in all her classes and sat as far away from him as possible. She ate lunch in the library and didn't go to her locker between periods and steered away from the lacrosse field and swimming pool all together.

And it worked.

Well, for a few days at least.

School didn't even turn out to be the problem in the end. She should've been more worried about home.

He cornered her on a Sunday, by some horrible twist of fate showing up at her house just as her mother was leaving and, of course, she had let him in.

Alexis found him in her kitchen, nearly scaring her to death when she walked in and saw him standing there.

"Jackson!" she yelped, stumbling back into a counter. "What are you doing here?" she looked around. "Why are you in my house?!"

"Your mom told me you were here," was his only response as he walked towards her, causing her to do her best to back away even though there was nowhere to go. "We need to talk."

"No, we really don't," Alexis disagreed, shaking her head frantically. "What you need to do is leave."

"Damn it Alexis!" Jackson yelled suddenly, pounding his fist on the counter next to him and making the blonde jump again. He ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to calm down. "I'm trying to fix things."

"I don't need things fixed," she told him. "I need you to stay away from me."

He stared at her, the hurt on his face bringing her at least as much pain as she was bringing him.

"What did I do?"

He sounded so small, so uncertain and fragile, that Alexis nearly broke just listening to him. She turned away and bit her lip, blinking back tears. Why was he making this so hard?

"Look, if kissing you was so bad, I promise I'll never do it again as long as you stay with me," he pleaded, coming closer so his hands were placed on either side of the counter next to her. "Please Alexis, I'm sorry."

She looked back at him, hearing once again the rawness in his voice that he only used when he cared; that he only used when he was talking to her.

"Please," her voice broke and she felt her tears starting to fall. "Please just leave me alone."

"I can't," he whispered after a moment, his eyes filled with as much emotion as her own. He gazed at her, staring into her soul it seemed, barely inches away. He shook his head. "Alexis, I can't." His voice was stronger now as he moved back slightly, giving her enough space to breathe again. "You know I can't."

He leaned against the counter next to her, not looking at her anymore, rather seeming deep in thought.

They sat quietly together for a moment, Alexis doing her best to compose herself and control her tears, Jackson trying to find the right words for what he would say next. Eventually he spoke again, breaking the silence.

"You know that when I found out I was adopted I yelled at the people who raised me." He said suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. Alexis didn't know how this had anything to do with their situation but she didn't interrupt. She just listened. "I told them I hated them and ran up to my room and didn't come out for days. I was five."

Was he just trying to break her heart more or was there a point to this?

"Since that day I've haven't told them I love them. I can't. I'm not even sure if I do, awful as it sounds." He turned to her, honesty raw in his expression once more and something akin to defeat gracing his features. "But I am sure of one thing. I think I have been for a long time. Even if I don't love them, even if I don't love anyone, I love _you_."

For a moment Alexis forgot how to breathe, how to speak, how to do anything. She just stared at the boy in front of her, so perfect and wonderful, the boy she loved, and she started to cry again.

"I'm sorry," was all he said, making no move to touch her, no move to reassure her that he hadn't said what he had. "I'm sorry I messed up the first good thing I've had in a while, maybe ever. I'm sorry that this happened. I'm sorry I'm making you even sadder."

"No," she told him, her voice still full of the tears she was desperately trying to stop from streaming down her cheeks. "No, I'm sorry." She took his hand in both of hers, drawing circles on it with her fingers as she looked at it, sniffling. "I'm sorry I said I hated you."

"Alexis-" Jackson began but she cut him off.

"No," she said. "Let me finish." She waited for him to nod before continuing, her eyes on his face this time. "I'm sorry I screamed at you. I'm sorry I told you to leave me alone. I'm sorry I took out my anger on you. I'm sorry I was so awful." She looked down again, biting her lip once more as she tried to control the water leaking from her eyes.

"I messed up." She told him. "I messed up a lot." She raised her head once more only to find him staring at her in confusion. "I never hated you," she said. "Or at least, I don't think I did. I was just trying to cover up other feelings that I couldn't deal with, other feelings I could never deal with." She searched his eyes, trying to convey her meaning simply through looks. "Until now," she whispered.

"What are you saying?" Jackson questioned softly, as if he were afraid to even ask.

Alexis let out a watery laugh, something between relief and disbelief obvious in the sound.

"I've been so blind," she took his face in her hands now as something new crept into her voice. Hope. "And oh so stupid. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" Jackson asked in confusion. "Forgive you for what?"

She laughed again, this time stronger, happier.

"I love you," she told him. "I love you so much it hurts." Realization at what she had just said began to enter Jackson's expression. "And I thought you could never feel the same. I was sure of it in fact. I was so upset when you kissed me because I thought I was just another girl to you. I didn't want to be another girl to you."

She rested her forehead against his, something of a smile beginning to form as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"So I'll ask again, can you forgive me?"

He just stared at her for a moment, making Alexis worry that she had said something wrong.

And then suddenly his lips were on hers and he was kissing Alexis with what felt like impossible strength.

It wasn't so much that the kiss was hard, it wasn't. It was more like he was putting everything he had into it; everything he felt, everything she felt. His fingers pressed into her back, keeping her close to him as she tangled hers in his hair.

 _This isn't a dream_ , she reminded herself as he pulled away enough that they could breathe. She smiled against his lips before kissing him again, deeper, fuller, more sure of herself.

No, this wasn't a dream.

It was better.

 **Love it? Hate it? PLEASE REVIEW! It would mean the world to me, especially since I worked on this for a really long time. Let me know what you think!**

 **Thanks,**

 **~Liliana**


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